


The Vine That Curls

by Snowgrouse



Series: Of Roses Unfurling [10]
Category: Thief of Bagdad (1940), كتاب ألف ليلة وليلة | Kitaab 'alf layla wa-layla | One Thousand and One Nights
Genre: Big Cocks, Bisexual Male Character, Brother/Brother Incest, Brotherly Love, Come Eating, Come Sharing, Dark Het, Dirty Talk, Dominant Male Character, Established Relationship, F/M, Female Ejaculation, Held Down, Heroine/Villain, Het, Het and Slash, Incest, Light Bondage, M/M, Magic as sex aid, Married Couple, Missing Scene, Multi, OC played by Basil Rathbone (Fadl), Open Relationship, Open Relationships, PWP, Polyamory, Queer Het, Rough Sex, Sibling Incest, Snowballing, Standalone, Submissive Female Character, Telepathic Bondage, The Thousand And One Nights - Freeform, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, Veidtbone - Freeform, Vignette, Wifeswapping, can be read as a standalone/original fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 14:21:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6119119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowgrouse/pseuds/Snowgrouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little missing scene of Fadl taking Yassamin, with Jaffar's gleeful assistance.</p><p>
  <i>"Hold her down," Fadl says to Jaffar without looking at him, smiling down at Yassamin instead. "Let's see how she moans when she feels <b>truly</b> helpless."</i>
</p><p>
  <i>And Jaffar adores this idea, marvels at this, as wicked as his brother: he sits cross-legged behind Yassamin's head and pins her wrists into the mattress with but a few swift spells. "There we are, my sweet," Jaffar grins down at her, and as Fadl begins to take her ever harder, Jaffar drinks her screams into his mouth with an upside-down kiss. He caresses her hair aside so that he might stroke her throat, his long fingers clasped on either side of it, studying her pulse, her heavy breathing. With the heat of his palms, with the depth of his kisses he swallows her very breath and her very heartbeat from her, his own body shivering with her ecstasy-shudders, his pleasure so deeply entwined with hers they are one.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Vine That Curls

**Author's Note:**

> A little standalone Rosesverse PWP that you can read as taking place pretty much anywhere after [The Cloven Tree.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3663693) Just as in the previous fics, Fadl is played by Basil Rathbone; have a visual reference for him in the role [here](http://aikainkauna.tumblr.com/post/139905682898/basil-rathbone-stars-as-al-fadl-ibn-yahya).

Yassamin lies spread out on her back upon the vast bed, Fadl lifting her legs, taking her with slow, deep, luxurious strokes. He feels so good inside of her, his size stretching her so that every surface of her cunny is sensitised, each one of his strokes exquisite as he slides through her slickened flesh. It's one of those rare joinings where everything is perfect--her cunny so awake to sensation, so heated, each nerve alive and keen, Fadl's prick hitting her just at the right angle, hard and sweet. She is so hot and so swollen and so wet that even the scratch of Fadl's short-trimmed, black pubic hair sends her hips jerking back onto his thrusts. Oh, but each blow of his monstrous cock--the full weight of his hips behind it--upon the root of her womb feels like an electric shock through her body's very core, her very being.

"Hold her down," Fadl says to Jaffar without looking at him, smiling down at Yassamin instead. "Let's see how she moans when she feels _truly_ helpless."

And Jaffar adores this idea, marvels at this, as wicked as his brother: he sits cross-legged behind Yassamin's head and pins her wrists into the mattress with but a few swift spells. "There we are, my sweet," Jaffar grins down at her, and as Fadl begins to take her ever harder, Jaffar drinks her screams into his mouth with an upside-down kiss. He caresses her hair aside so that he might stroke her throat, his long fingers clasped on either side of it, studying her pulse, her heavy breathing. With the heat of his palms, with the depth of his kisses he swallows her very breath and her very heartbeat from her, his own body shivering with her ecstasy-shudders, his pleasure so deeply entwined with hers they are one.

But Fadl is feeling left out. He pulls back and drops his hips, rolls them into a swordsman's thrust; he falls onto Yassamin, taking her with the entire weight of his body, now. He pushes Jaffar aside, cups Yassamin's head and staring into her eyes, now fucks her moans out of her, exacting them from her body as payment for what he is giving her. And howling, ululating, Jaffar's nails dragging sparks up the bareness of her inner arms Yassamin gives them what they want, what is their due. She trembles underneath Fadl, would toss if she could as he pounds her womb, the pleasure of it now so mixed with pain it is not unlike sodomy. That is how fully she is now being taken; so completely that she babbles, weak, her words pouring out over her hair, over the brothers' wet, moustachioed mouths in broken, bubbling streams.

"Tell me," Fadl snarls, pulling back and spreading her legs wide, wide as he kneels between them. "Tell me how it feels," he snaps as he again pulls his hips back and throws her hips up from the bed with a cruel blow, making her howl. That a man so endowed should still need reassurance--even in her delirium, Yassamin pities him, sees Jaffar give him a long, curious glance as he soothes her, his hands gentle upon her stomach, her breasts.

 _Have a care,_ Jaffar's eyes are saying, and at that, Fadl relents, kisses Yassamin's foot and starts to move within her more tenderly, taking his thumb to the top of her slit and stroking there softly. "Come, my sweet," Fadl says. "Humour an old man."

Yassamin smiles and squeezes around his cock, triumphant as she is rewarded with a pleasure-moan from Fadl in turn. "It does feel good, now. When you are slow. Passionate."

"Like this?" Fadl asks with a more sensual roll, querying her with his eyes even as he sees her belly dip and quiver. "Hmm?" He licks his thumb and returns it to her clitoris.

"Yes," Yassamin gasps, shivering in delight as the shock of pleasure from his thumb meets that deeper pleasure uncurling inside of her cunny as he slides in and out of her. The two sparks being struck meet each other deep inside of her body, her pubic bone echoing with it, her nipples hardening, and she is sure she is now _trickling_ onto Fadl's cock. "Please."

"My, my," Fadl chuckles. "And here I thought my brother was the little rivulet," he says, and keeps thrusting, long sweet thrusts, firm hard rubs upon her clitoris.

"Two halves of the same soul," Jaffar sighs, adoring her trembling, gathering her head into his lap. "I would hear how it feels for you too, Yassamin. Show me," he says, cupping her breast. "Let me see your face when you come undone."

But she is well on her way there already. Even if she does not know if she is going to wet herself first--Fadl is now pounding into her bladder. "Please, lower, deeper," she has to ask Fadl so that he does not hit her so high and so at the front of her.

Fadl leans down and nuzzles her face. "Is this better?" He asks as he guides himself lower, now behind the womb as Yassamin shifts so that she might take him deeper.

"Yes," she says, but now Fadl can't stroke her, braced as his hands are on either side of her. Jaffar sees this and frees her wrists so that she might touch herself; Fadl's pride seems a little wounded, judging by the glare he shoots up at Jaffar.

"Wait and see," Jaffar says, grinning conspiratorially. 

But she cannot hear Fadl's answer, if he even gives one, because he is now moving into her so perfectly that she is so close, so close, her hand flying on her cunny. And there, she gives Fadl what he wants, needs, for it is what she truly feels indeed: "Please, don't stop, don't stop, oh, you are so big," she groans, wails, for it feels as if he is splitting her in half; "it feels so good when you take me like that," she babbles onto his smug lips, "fuck me like that," because he seems like the sort of man who enjoys a bawd, a whore. 

And he does, he does; he keens in his throat at her words and drives into her with all his skill and his might. He shouts, bracing himself against the bed as he performs, milks those noises and filthy words out of her. And as she finally comes, he wails, wails in utter disbelief as she sprays his cock, his balls, his belly: she shouts deep from the bottom of her lungs as she convulses around him, her cunny's muscles squeezing violently around his prick, she bucking into him to get his last blows to hit her just right, deep, deep.

"Fadl!" She roars, hoarse; Fadl obeys her and fucks her into the bed, slamming his entire body into her, into the mattress, slamming the last of her sprays and her shudders and her teeth-chatters from her.

But now, a cry of despair, helplessness bursts out from Fadl himself: swiftly, he pulls out of her, curves on top of her and ejaculates upon her belly. With deep, anguished howls he comes into his hand, pressing and sliding and dipping the tip of his prick into the softness of her belly, slipping in the sweat and the sperm, whimpering on top of her.

"Yassamin, I--" Fadl cries, then thinks better of it and chooses to kiss her instead, hugging her against himself, sobbing in delight as he nestles himself into the soft white sea of her flesh.

"Just in time," Jaffar chuckles and ruffles Fadl's hair.

"Don't listen to him," Yassamin says, hugging Fadl with her arms and her legs. "I am near my menses and he would have known of some spell to make the seed sterile, I am sure."

"As a matter of fact, I don't," Jaffar mutters. "That's one area magic and science still struggle with: life itself is damned persistent," he says as he kisses them both. "Thank you, Fadl."

"Oh, it's nothing--I do it with slave girls all the ti--you filthy bastard!" Fadl cries, as now, Jaffar leans down between them to lap up his come from Yassamin's belly, Fadl's.

"Mm. Just making sure none of it goes to waste," Jaffar murmurs and shares his joy with Fadl in a white, slick, sperm-drenched kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Freely rebloggable announcement post on Tumblr [here.](http://aikainkauna.tumblr.com/post/140105718153/fic-the-vine-that-curls-jaffarprincessfadl)


End file.
